


Blow Me Down (with a 3 ft. purple feather)

by Pfain Ryder (Cat_Moon)



Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-25 15:44:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20028298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Pfain%20Ryder
Summary: When Sam leaps into NYC, he accidentally picks Al up on Christopher street.





	Blow Me Down (with a 3 ft. purple feather)

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 1994. Inspired by real (but more boring) events

Sam leaped into the middle of a riot. At least that's how it seemed to him at first glance. A second glance told him his guess was close...the dingy surroundings screamed New York, and he was at some kind of demonstration or parade.

And speaking of screaming...

Sam stared as a beefy man with long, hairy arms skipped by two feet in front of him...the man was wearing a sequin body suit, fishnet stockings, garter belt, and stiletto heels, and carrying a butterfly net.

Taking in the rest of the festivities, Sam discovered he was standing on a crowded sidewalk, watching a parade. The assorted Martians, various movie slashers, and miscellaneous six-foot monsters told him his first suspicion had been wrong. That and the nip in the night air--although how he'd remembered/knew what season the gay pride parade was held in left him feeling slightly uncomfortable.

This however, was the annual Halloween parade.

Then another thought struck him: how was he going to figure out what he was there to fix, in a crowd of thousands? He could only hope that Ziggy wouldn't find the task as daunting as he did.

With nothing better to do until Al arrived, Sam watched the parade go by. The costumes were as lavish and colorful as he remembered from his brief time at NYU. Many were typical Halloween fare, but the gay contingent was out in full force too. The parade wouldn't have been the same without their outrageous costumes.

An almost-tastefully attired drag queen pranced by. He was wearing a short white glittery dress that had a low cut halter top, it clung to his slight frame. He was remarkably balanced on his red, spiked heels. Long fake eyelashes set off a face that was made up a little heavy, but not theatrically. Topping it all off was a long, curly black wig. All in all, he wasn't a half bad looking woman.

Sam frowned as the man came closer and he got a better look. Something about him was eerily familiar, so much so that Sam found he couldn't look away from that face. After the man had passed by him, Sam miraculously found a break in the throng and dashed ahead to get another peek.

Something about that face, the eyes... Sam blinked. He blinked again. His eyes widened in disbelief.

That drag queen was Al!

No, it couldn't be. Heart racing, Sam began to keep up with the parade, taking every opportunity to get ahead of the mysterious man. The more he studied that face, the weirder it felt. He knew he had to be mistaken. The guy might resemble Al, but it was completely crazy to consider the possibility seriously. Totally wacko. The leaping was finally getting to him.

Sam wanted to give up the insane chase and concentrate on the leap, but the feeling nagged at him too much to let it go. He was compelled to follow the procession uptown to its conclusion. He had to know. Even though he already knew it was impossible.

Unfortunately, when the people began to separate, Sam lost him. He frantically scanned the dispersing parade, hoping to catch a glimpse of his quarry, to no avail.

Where would a man in a white dress disappear to after a Halloween parade?

Praying his task wasn't impossible but knowing it was equivalent to finding a needle in a haystack, Sam ran all the way back down to Greenwich Village.

Halfway to his destination, the hologram popped in. "Hiya, Sam."

The unexpected voice close to his ear made him jump. "Al! You almost gave me a heart attack!" He stopped to catch his breath.

"Sorry." For once, Al's attire looked tame, compared to the flamboyance around them. "Aww, I missed the parade."

"Uh--yeah, I think so..."

"Huh?"

Sam leaned against a building what he hoped was casually, trying to act nonchalant. He knew what Al would say if asked--the Admiral would probably give himself a hernia from laughing. Sam decided to keep the details of his lunatic goose chase to himself for the time being.

"Does Ziggy know what I'm here to do?"

Al shook his head, struggling to keep up with Sam's long strides as he started walking again. "It's kinda difficult in his mob. Nothing earth shattering seems to have happened; the crowd was amazingly behaved, only a few pick pocketings."

"I don't think that's a word."

"What?"

"Pick-pocketings."

Al gave him a shrug. "Translate it. Anyway, it might be you just happened to leap in when you did, and there's something in your--Greg Winter's life you have to fix. It's October 31, 1985, by the way."

"And I'm in New York, no shit." Al gave him a strange look. He ignored it and struggled to scan the area without being obvious.

"It's always nice to be in New York," Al commented, glancing at all the preoccupied, oblivious people around them. "At least here I can talk to you without being in the men's room. Where are we going?" he asked suddenly.

"Well, I uh...didn't know what else to do when I leaped in, so I followed the parade. When it ended I figured I should go back to where I came in."

"Oh. Where was that?"

"The Village."

Al punched some buttons on the handlink. "Nothing. Well, why don't you enjoy the festivities, I hear it's one huge block party down there on All Hallows Eve. I'll go back and try to get more information. Do you want to know where you live?"

"Driver's license," Sam answered shortly, wishing Al would hurry up and leave. "And I can find my way around the city. You might as well not come back until you have something solid for me."

"Sheesh," Al mumbled. "You'd think you leaped in the middle of something serious, instead of a party night. Okay, see you later." The white rectangle of light appeared, and he disappeared into it.

When Sam was alone again, he broke into a jog. He tried to be philosophical about it. He didn't have anything better to do with his time at the moment anyway, he might as well try to satisfy his curiosity. It was the curse of being a scientist.

Still, there's no way that was really Al.

When he got to the Village, Sam ducked into a Store 24 at the intersection of sixth avenue and eighth street for a large bottle of ice tea. Finally arriving at the gay mecca, Christopher street, he stepped back into a doorway to drink his tea and search the crowd with his eyes, letting his weary body have a break. He always had liked people watching anyway.

Sam abruptly remembered spending enjoyable afternoons with Verbena, either at a mall or restaurant, doing the very same. Verbena was a people watcher too, not surprisingly.

After he'd finished his drink and thrown the bottle in the trash, Sam began walking down the street. Actually, inching would be more descriptive, considering the size of the crowd roaming about. He'd already been propositioned several times, by women, men, a few he couldn't identify, and the odd bum or two, asking for change. And that was before he'd arrived on Christopher.

Sam saw the man with the butterfly net again, camping it up for passerby. It gave him absurd hope.

"Make a wish, honey," a high-pitched voice said. A moment later the white mesh of a net was over Sam's head and reeling him in.

"I know what _I'm_ wishing for sugar," another man said in an effeminate voice, looking Sam up and down appreciatively.

Sam smiled politely as the net was removed. "Sorry, but I'm looking for someone."

"Aren't we all?" the queen quipped.

"Someone in particular," Sam clarified, unsure whether to be flattered, amused, taken aback, or uncomfortable.

"Hey girls, leave him alone, I saw him first," a new voice admonished.

A new voice that wasn't new to Sam. He froze, then turned, half expecting to see the hologram standing there with a teasing grin.

Knowing he wouldn't.

Sam gazed into the face from the parade, up close this time. He could have been knocked over by the three-foot-long purple feather one of the drag queens was walking around with.

_Well, now I know. _ Sam suddenly felt like the proverbial dog who chases cars. _Now what do I do about it?_

"Tell me it isn't true," the hairy queen shrieked in disappointment.

"Of course it is, right?" Al asked, linking his arm through Sam's.

Sam nodded dumbly as he was pulled away. With some token protests called after them, the other two continued on to find new victims.

"Ah, thanks for uh, getting me out of that, uh tactfully," Sam stammered as they continued walking toward the pier. Al still had a hold of his arm, but he was too much in shock to think of pulling away.

"They don't bite, it's all in fun," Al's unmistakable voice told him. "This is your first Halloween here, isn't it?"

"I, well uh, actually it...I just moved to New York recently," he finally improvised.

"It's overwhelming at first, but it's just that these guys need to unwind, let loose, after all the repression." He sounded like he knew a lot about it. And the tone of voice was so normally conversational, so Al, if it weren't for the arm through his and the smell of perfume drifting his way, it could have been the hologram explaining the leap. "You too, I'd gather."

"Huh?" Sam mumbled, forgetting what they were talking about. And just why had this Al come to his rescue?

_Naw..._

"I saw you watching me in the parade tonight," Al said in a sultry voice. "Following me."

_Oh boy._

"And you came here looking for me. I'm flattered, it's not often someone goes so out of their way to know me."

_Only crazy scientists, _Sam thought, comparing this bizarre situation to the night they met at Starbright. History sometimes repeated itself very oddly. He glanced at Al. Up to now he'd been very careful to keep his eyes straight ahead and be comforted by the familiar voice. It was a unique experience to be walking down the street arm-in-arm with a man dressed as a woman, when it was this particular man...

Sam found himself staring again, in amazement. His brain still didn't want to believe what his eyes were telling him. If anyone had asked him to picture Al in drag before this, he probably would have hurt himself laughing.

Strangely, he didn't feel the urge to laugh.

"Do you, uh, live around here?" Sam decided to press for information about this strange part of Al's life he was sure he hadn't known about.

The glint in the eyes which met his forcibly reminded Sam of what he'd said and how it had sounded.

_Oh shit._

"No," Al answered, pressing closer to his side. "I'm only in town for a few days."

"On business?"

"Sort of," Al answered vaguely, and Sam knew he wouldn't get much personal information out of him.

He asked what he hoped would be a neutral question. "Do you come to this parade often?"

"Whenever I can. Not often."

"My name is Sam, by the way," Sam said for the hell of it. After all, a lot of men used fake names in these situations, and besides, he wouldn't feel right about bringing Greg's name into this. As far as he knew, the man was just an innocent victim of circumstances.

It was crazy though, just a little while ago he was believing it was Al from only a glimpse--now that he knew without a doubt, he was baiting him for more proof.

Al's head came up at the familiar name. "I'm," he hesitated for a brief moment, "Al," he surprised Sam by answering honestly.

"Hi, Al." Sam beamed at him.

"I don't normally do this kind of a thing..."

"Neither do I," Sam hastened to add.

"But I'm glad we're both willing to make an exception in this case," he smiled at Sam. It was a beautiful smile, devastating with the whole package.

Sam suddenly noticed that they were no longer on Christopher street. He'd been steered down one of the narrow side streets without realizing it. Brownstones lined the dark, quiet street, a quaint setting that was like a peaceful oasis in the middle of insanity.

"I've always loved these back streets," Al said with a sigh as they strolled along. "You can almost forget you're in New York."

"Yes, it's nice," Sam mumbled uncomfortably.

"So are you," Al said quietly.

Before Sam knew what hit him, he was pulled into a small alley between two of the buildings. It was just large enough to accommodate the width of their two bodies.

Sam's heart pounded in his ears as Al's body--in a women's dress!--pressed against his. Just like his discovery that it had indeed been Al, he'd known this was coming, yet was stunned speechless all the same.

How could he have missed the glint of danger, the hint of anticipation in his friend's dark eyes? He'd heard enough stories about females to know Al enjoyed the thrill of elicit sex.

Then Al wasn't looking at him anymore.

The shock of Al's mouth covering his was like diving into a cold pool on a sweltering summer day. Sam gasped, and Al took advantage of the opportunity to invade his mouth with a searching tongue. He pressed into Sam's body, and Sam could feel the heat of his erection.

As the kiss lengthened, an insidious hand crept between their bodies, massaging Sam's crotch underneath his jeans.

It was at this point that Sam's numb brain began to tell him what was happening. He pulled his head away with effort. Breathing hard, he gazed into the face before him. The male/female face before him.

The inquiring hand unzipped him and reached inside his pants. The touch of fingers on his flesh brought an involuntarily intake of breath, and Sam realized another amazing fact.

He had an erection too.

As Al fondled his cock expertly, the thrill of the wickedness captured him too. He was in an alley, with Al dressed up as a female. The reality of the situation blew his mind. It was wild, crazy, bizarre. And it was a huge turn-on. He remembered Al's reaction to him when he'd leaped into Samantha Stormer, and understood now.

Al slid down his body, drawing his cock out of its confines. The cool air barely had a chance to register before it was replaced by hot suction.

Sam moaned, thrusting forward helplessly. He pressed his back against the cold cement wall, willing his knees to keep supporting him as Al gave him the most incredible blow job of his life.

Al backed off, teasingly blowing on his cock. He grabbed Al's shoulders, holding on tightly and trying not to cry out at the incredible sensations. Then the mouth was engulfing him again, taking him all the way in, driving him out of his mind. He watched the unbelievable scene unfolding before him with wonder.

His mind short-circuited as the pleasure peaked. He brought his hand to his mouth, biting it to keep the scream inside as he was milked dry.

Sam's legs finally surrendered and he found himself falling to his knees in the dirt. For a few minutes all he could do was take deep gulps of the night air and cling to Al's body.

"That was...incredible," Sam murmured, knowing how cliched it sounded, but not coherent enough yet to find a more original way to express himself.

"Thanks," Al chuckled, as his careful hands tucked Sam's now flaccid organ back inside his pants.

Sam's third shock for the evening came when he realized it was now time for him to reciprocate. He thought about it for a moment, about making love to Al, even though it was a little late to be contemplating the subject now. He cared for his best friend very much...if tonight was any gauge, more than he'd ever realized. The thought of making him feel good was exciting in itself.

Al stood, hitching his dress up and reaching to pull down his pantyhose.

"Let me," Sam said, taking over the job. He gripped the waistband of the hose and slid them down the male waist. "This is wild," he breathed with excitement, bending to nuzzle Al's navel. A distant part of his mind marveled at this new discovery, that making love to a man in women's clothing could be such a kick.

No, make that making love to Al dressed in women's clothing.

_I'm almost as kinky as he is!_ Sam thought, and found himself smiling into the warm flesh under his mouth.

Hands shaking with desire ran through his hair, reminding Sam of the patient waiting. He considered his goal, hard and needful, right in front of his eyes. This close up, it looked dauntingly huge. He raised his head to look at his partner.

"I have to warn you, I've never done this before," he said apologetically.

"Never?" Al asked in surprise.

Sam felt his cheeks coloring. _ Now I blush?! _ "I'm kind of...new to all this."

"I thought...well, the way you were looking at me during the parade, and following me... What made you chose me as your first experience?" Al asked quietly.

Sam raised himself up and met Al's eyes. "There was something... special about you," he said honestly. On impulse, he bent forward and kissed Al's lips tenderly.

When he broke the kiss, Al shook his head in the affectionately tolerant gesture that he'd used so often on Sam. "You remind me of--" he broke off abruptly.

"Of who?" Sam asked breathlessly.

"Never mind," Al said roughly. "Just someone I know. We'd better hustle this up, before we get caught."

The words brought Sam back to where they were. He knelt again, giving the waiting erection an apologetic kiss for his neglect. He took it in his hand, tentatively licking up and down the shaft. It wasn't an unpleasant taste or sensation so far. Courage bolstered, he traced the veins with his tongue, licked at the slit.

Squirming, Al groaned. Sam guiltily realized it was more a groan of frustration than pleasure. He took the entire head into his mouth, trying to get used to the bulk quickly. Using his hand to make a tunnel for the bottom half of the shaft, Sam started an in and out motion. He sucked as best he could, trying to be very careful of his teeth and feeling woefully inadequate.

Al began moaning steadily, his palms flat against the wall behind him, obviously trying not to thrust. Encouraged by the accommodation and sounds of enjoyment, Sam increased his suction and pace, using more pressure. He found he could take in more of the cock. He relaxed his throat muscles, and slid his mouth down as far as he could. His fingers teased the balls underneath.

Before he quite expected it, the hands in his hair tightening almost painfully and Al stiffened. The sensation and taste of semen at the back of his throat was a totally new and unique experience. He swallowed, proud of himself.

By the time he'd fixed Al's dress and risen, Sam was again besieged by doubts. He hesitantly glanced up into Al's face, slightly relieved by the sated smile he saw there. "I hope it was okay," he said, feeling stupid.

Al smiled wider and drew him close. "It was great. With a little more practice, you're gonna be a natural at this."

"Thanks...I think." Sam smiled and daringly stole one more kiss, knowing the time for that was past.

"You're a sweet kid," Al said, stroking his hair. He seemed to be debating something, then he came to a decision. "Maybe we can exchange phone numbers..."

Sam panicked. The idea was great in theory, lousy in practice. He frantically tried to think of a good excuse, he couldn't bring himself to hurt this man's feelings.

Al must have seen it in his face. "Hey--it's okay if you don't want to, really."

"It's not that," Sam assured him. "I'd like nothing more than to get to know you better." True, considering he was just realizing how little he really knew about his best friend. Casting about desperately, Sam took the wildest, most insane gamble of his life. "But I get the feeling you're already involved," he met Al's eyes squarely.

Al looked down momentarily, guiltily. "Not the way you mean. But I'm...I may have given you the wrong impression. Listen," he grabbed Sam's arm and, after peeking out of the alley to be sure they were still alone, pulled him out into the street. "Let's not invite trouble," he said apologetically. They started walking back towards Christopher street side by side, as if they were nothing more than old friends. "I know I must seem like the wildest of the rebellious to you, but this isn't really me. I had to drink half a pint of gin just to get the courage to put this dress on."

Sam looked at him inquiringly.

"Once I sobered up, I was in the middle of the parade and couldn't turn back." He chuckled. "Like I said before, once in awhile we need to be able to let loose and throw caution to the wind. The other 365 days of the year I'm the most closeted person you've ever seen in your life. And I...I've got too much to lose."

"I understand," Sam said softly. "To be honest," he began, glad he could be, "I really like you. Too much to be happy with just a few days of casual sex."

"I'm sorry," Al said quietly.

Sam took his arm. "Don't be. Nothing ventured, nothing lost."

"Gained, either," Al murmured as if to himself.

"Take care of yourself, Al." Sam reached over and kissed him briefly on the lips. "I wish you...love."

"You too, Sam. Go easy with your exploration. Don't fall into any traps, hear?"

"I'm only a sucker for...certain men," Sam said with a wink. "No pun intended," he added, managing not to blush this time.

They parted then. No big tearful goodbye, no regrets. Al turned and walked back up towards sixth avenue, and Sam kept going in the other direction.

Crossing the West Side highway, Sam walked over to the fence, watching the lights on the river. He could hear murmurings around him, see dark shapes in the distance, close together. The pier was the gay version of 'Make-Out Point'.

Sam prodded his feelings, found he wasn't sad or upset. Like any other leap, he was glad for the chances he'd had. To spend time with Al, share love with the person he was closest to in the world. It would be greedy to ask for more.

"Nice night," a voice spoke up close to him.

Sam turned, for one elated moment thinking it was the other Al. So much for not being greedy, he thought, guiltily swallowing the disappointment he'd felt when he saw the tell-tale flashing handlink.

"Yes, it is," Sam agreed, turning back to the view. "A little chilly, but I've spent colder Octobers." He inwardly winced at the trite conversation coming out of his mouth. "Did you find any more information?"

"Yes," Al said, but didn't elaborate.

"So what do I have to do to leap out?" he prodded.

"You already did it."

Sam turned to Al, gaping at him. "Huh?" His heart went back to his throat, where it had spent much of the leap.

Al smiled slightly. "In the original history, Greg went home after the parade. Only one of the boys, John Richards, took a liking to him and decided to follow him for awhile, to see if he could get something going. John had been drinking some, I guess it affected his better judgment. Greg's straight, by the way," he threw in as an aside. "When he made his move, Greg let him down easy. But on his way back to the Village, John was attacked by a gang of gay bashers. He died of internal injuries two days later."

"He's okay now?" Sam asked concernedly.

"Oh yeah, he stayed with his friends in their neighborhood. By not going right home, you prevented it from happening."

"No one else got attacked, did they?" Sam asked, sickened by the reminder of the stink of bigotry. And somehow, tonight it seemed frighteningly personal.

"Nope, it was a quiet night."

"Good." Sam pondered the ironic turn of events. By following Al around the Village, he'd prevented someone else from following _him_, with what would have been deadly results.

"Did you have a good night?" Al asked conversationally.

"Uh, it was okay." Sam turned back to his study of the water.

"Just okay, huh? Nothing interesting happen?"

"No. Why, should there have?" Sam asked in a carefully bored tone.

"Sam. I was there, bozo, remember?" he chided.

Sam spun around, gaping open-mouthed at him. Of course Al knew, after all, he had participated. "Oh," he said in a weak voice.

"I didn't know you had it in you," Al chuckled.

"Me? What about _you_?!" Sam began indignantly, in self defense. "Mr. Homophobic himself, prancing around in a dress!"

Al sighed, turning serious. "I'm not proud of it Sam, but I was so far in the closet, I couldn't find my way out with a map and compass. I was Mr. Paranoia incarnate, terrified the Navy was going to find out about me. In _that_ timeline," he added meaningfully.

"Is everything okay, now?" Sam asked, holding his breath.

"More than. That taste of throwing out inhibitions I experienced with 'Greg' gave me the courage to be more open. I did a lot of thinking after that night."

Sam understood what Al was saying. He remembered once, back in Elk Ridge, when his brother and friends were sneaking out for a midnight swim in the pond. He bugged Tom until he gave in and let him go with them. When they arrived, Sam found out he was the only one who'd brought swim trunks, and learned what skinny-dipping meant. To the shy, prudish young boy, the idea of being naked out-of-doors, in public (sort of) was scandalous. But determined to overcome his cowardice and avoid the inevitable taunting by the older boys, he silently undressed with the others.

The sense of freedom he experienced that night was exhilarating. It stayed with him for a long time afterwards, making me feel stronger and more in control of his destiny.

Kind of like the liaison in the alley.

"Of course, it also created a weird time paradox," Al told him.

"How?" Sam asked in alarm.

Al grinned. "Well, in the changed timeline, I went to the Halloween parade all right...dressed as Popeye." He winked, as Sam felt that familiar tingle begin.

Sam fought to hang on a bit longer, but he never did get the chance to ask Al those important questions that were burning inside of him. He was whisked away into the stream of time once again.

Those questions would have to wait.

(What Al didn't tell Sam, was who Olive Oyl was...)

**the end**

7/2/94


End file.
